olio n. (OH-lee-oh): a miscellaneous mixture; a hodgepodge

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I hope she is proud.

Another year has gone by and Sunday is, yet again, another Mother’s Day. I am still not yet a mother myself. Each year, I have a bit of nostalgia and a bit of numbness for a day that comes each year. It has been 19 years since I have celebrated Mother’s Day with my mom. It is hard to believe that it has been almost two decades. How is that even possible? I struggle with the concept that I have spent more of my life without my mom then I ever spent with her in my life.

my mama

Has it made me independent? Hell yeah. Has it made me miss her? Hell yeah. I have often been asked by others: “What is the hardest part about losing a loved one?” Many think it is the days and weeks surrounding their passing. Yes, that part is hard. What is harder? The months later. For a child, it might be a future “bring mom to school” day. For a teenager, it might be going to prom and wishing their mom was there to see them off, or wishing their loved one was there to watch them receive their diploma. Whatever the situation, it can be incredibly hard months and often years later when the depths of pain and sadness rip you apart in ways you never expected.

I can tell you this from experience. The day before my wedding, Chris and I made the decision to get married — just the two of us on a beach in Hawaii. It felt so right for us to start this stage of our life together, just us saying our vows together. No fluff, no commitments to others, just two lives joining together. That day, before we got married, I got sad. I had no idea I would miss my mom so much. Just thinking about it almost ten years later I have tears streaming down my face. I wanted her to be able to watch me with pride join my life with Chris, and yet I had no idea her absence would be so hard for me until that moment when I was preparing for my special day.

Chris might have thought my oddness that day meant I was afraid of getting married and that I might back out of our wedding. Yet, I was not afraid of marrying Chris, I was just sad. I had no idea the absence of my mom would hit me so hard on such a happy time in my life. I do not remember if I missed my dad that day, only that my mom should have been there and watched me marry this wonderful man.

Happy Mother’s Day, mom. I hope you can see all that I have become in life and all that I have. I am a grateful daughter with so much to be thankful for every day. Life has not always been easy, but I have learned so much along the way. It has made me speak up, say what is on my mind (whether Chris likes it or not) and I think you would be proud.

4 thoughts on “I hope she is proud.”

I miss my mom when I need information – maybe one of her recipes or a date when something happened. She always knew so much, and I loved being able to call and ask, and she would deliver, free of charge.

It’s been long enough that the sharp edge of pain is gone, but at times like those, the permanence of her loss is very strong.

Yes, Kelly for me too. It is the stained recipe or the soon she always used that bring tears to my eyes. It is up to us to carry on making those cookies, and cherish their birthdays, etc. Thank you for sharing 🙂